


The Peculiar Perils of Strawhat Parties

by WaterChestnut (SpicyChestnut)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Eventual Explicit sexual content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Law and Nami keep getting sucked into Luffy's pace, Light-Hearted, Luffy keeps throwing parties, Ope Ope no Mi | Op-Op Fruit, POV Alternating, Partying, Pirate Politics, Post Dressrosa/Pre-Zou, Slice of Pirate Life, StrawHeart, Strawhat-Heart Pirate Alliance, Strawheart Alliance, The Polar Tang, also hangovers, hilarity and shenanigans ensue, or rather: wary allies to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-10-28 00:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyChestnut/pseuds/WaterChestnut
Summary: Common commentary throughout the 5 seas held that Strawhat parties were notoriously wild.This is something that Trafalgar Law, as well as the rest of his crew, are learning first hand. Not that Law particularly feels like partying; after Dressrosa, the Heart Pirates Captain has a little soul-searching he’d like to attend to. But one tends to become… drawn in, to certain things around Luffy—regardless of one’s plans or intentions. This fact is how Law finds himself developing an unlikely and unexpected friendship with his ally’s navigator—and how that friendship, much like Luffy’s parties, grows far beyond his intentions.After months sailing with the Strawhats, it’s a good thing he’s learned to roll with the punches—because he sure as hell didn’t plan on any of this.





	1. More Than Meets The Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to this fun little side project of mine! Born of an attempt to work past writers block by writing a story for another fandom I'd never written before, like most of my projects it grew a lot larger than I had originally planned. I've got about half of this now written, and plan to work on the rest nice and slow (I do still have a host of "main" projects I'm working on), so you can expect once monthly updates, maybe once every other month.
> 
> Tagged characters have at least moderate story presence though it will primarily follow Law, Nami, and each of their besties: Bepo and Robin. Rated M for language and adult themes consistent throughout. Rating will be increased to E for later chapters (once I get there), though admittedly this will be a relatively mild fic (at least for me).
> 
> Enjoy! And please do leave a comment with your thoughts! Comments are my muse.

Thinking back on her first impressions of him atop that bleak, snowy hillside on Punk Hazard, she would have laughed at anyone suggesting the captain of the Heart Pirates was anything more than a cunning sadist with hidden malicious intent; after all, one manipulator knows another. She had him pegged the moment she met him: sharp eyes belying a calculating brilliance beneath his cool exterior, who knew the power of few words and subtle suggestion. He was a Shichibukai—and she never had met one she liked, with a sizable bounty to match her estimation of his dangerousness. Yes, she had him pegged; or at least, she thought she did.  
  
Had anyone dared to inform her then of how she herself would come to view him in but a few months time—as not merely a valued ally and friend, but a lover, she would have choked on her own spit.  
  
But a lot can happen in a few months time; this, Nami would come to learn with startling clarity. And perhaps she shouldn’t have been so surprised. After all, during a Strawhat party, anything was possible.

—:—:—:—

  
  
“I think I see it! I think I see it!” Luffy hollered eagerly from the crow’s nest, arms already stretching to swing from the mast before he’d even finished speaking. Nami smiled, glancing down at the jittering vivre card in her palm before murmuring to Franky who stood beside her at the helm.  
  
“Seven degrees starboard should bring us alongside them.”  
  
“Aye aye!” he responded with a grin, turning the wheel with slight, precise movements.  
  
Glancing out at calm water, she could see in the distance the telltale swell amidst the usual ocean waves as the Polar Tang began to near the surface. Glancing briefly up at the sun—it looked to be around 4:30 in the afternoon, she estimated it would be about ten minutes before they reached their ally’s ship. Though he tried to hide it, she could tell he was eager to be reunited with his crew—especially after the unanticipated events on Dressrosa.  
  
With clear skies and smooth waters, their allies located and no enemies in sight, it seemed they would finally have a bit of a respite—and about damn time.  
  
She walked to the railing, quickly scanning the deck for her crew mates. Usopp sat fishing off the starboard side, animatedly telling one of his tall tales to an enraptured Chopper, and Zoro hollered insults at Sanji from beneath one of the deck trees—just the men she needed.  
  
“Oi, Usopp! Zoro!” As both men turned to her, she gestured above her. “Start raising the sails!”  
  
Before they could voice protestations she turned her attention to Law who sat quietly against the fore-mast, his Nodachi resting against his shoulder—a comparatively calm presence in an otherwise chaotic array of personalities staggered about the deck.  
  
“Ten minutes ‘till we reach your crew, Torao.”  
  
He tilted his head back to look up at her, golden eyes bright beneath the shadowed brim of his hat as he smiled—or, well, his version of a smile.  
  
“Thank you, Nami-ya.”  
  
She had to admit, It was nice to have someone with some semblance of manners on board. She nodded with a small smile, returning her attention to the vivre card and the rolling ocean waves.

—:—:—:—

  
  
“Incoming!”  
  
Franky’s shouted warning was followed by a loud thunk as the gangplank fell onto the deck of the Polar Tang, connecting the two ships.  
  
“Oi, oi, easy on the paint Robo-ya!”  
  
However Law’s protestation was quickly drowned out by the stampeding footsteps of his crew, Bepo well in the lead as he ran full-pelt across the gang plank towards him.  
  
“Captaaaaain! I’m going to hug you!”  
  
With little ceremony the bear launched himself at a wide-eyed Law, who staggered back at the unexpected force. Wrapping around his captain’s upper half, the heart pirates navigator gleefully indulged in what couldn’t be more appropriately termed a bear hug.  
  
It was, if she had to put a word to it, cute to see the way Law reacted to the show of affection. It was subtle—likely by intention if she knew him at all, which she liked to think she’d come to at least a little; but Nami was well-versed in subtlety even if most of the rest of the crew seemed incapable of comprehending the meaning of the word. His head tilted down just a bit to hide the glimmer in his eyes, and a small smile tugged insistently at the corners of his lips, his posture relaxing easily into the bear’s fuzzy embrace. She leaned forward on the railing, smiling.  
  
“Shishishi!” Luffy’s laughter echoed from the forecastle deck as he launched himself towards Law and his congregating crew.  
  
“We should celebrate! Oi! Sanji! Make everyone some meat!”  
  
Luffy’s sudden declaration startled her out of her amusement over Law’s covert huggle session with Bepo. She straightened, her eyes darting to Sanji—usually a voice of reason, who was instead walking towards the kitchen. Anxiously, she returned her attention to her own captain.  
  
“Wait, Luffy! Don’t you think we should maybe dock at an island or something first?! We’re out in the middle of the sea and this is the new world—the conditions could turn on us at any moment.”  
  
He turned to smile up at her without a trace of concern, draping his arms easily over a smiling Bepo and a frowning Law who stared at the offending hand but made no move to remove it.  
  
“It’ll be fine, Nami! Who knows how long it would take to find an island; and besides, you’ll know if the weather changes before we need to do anything about it—you always do!”  
  
She felt her ire flare at his statement. He was absolutely right, of course—but his shameless flattery did little to minimize the fact that he had openly admitted he was relying on her to keep an eye out for danger while the rest of the two crews partied. She couldn’t kick Zoro’s ass at a drinking contest (and fleece him for all he was worth while she was at it) if she had to be the responsible one! Responsible people were sober!  
  
“Baka!” she shouted from the railing, leaning over it further in her anger, “You don’t get to have fun while I’m stuck keeping your sorry asses safe!”  
  
Luffy simply laughed, releasing both Bepo and Law. “It’ll be fine, Nami! This is a celebration so you should have fun, too!” He then turned towards the kitchen, stretching his arms for the railing as he shouted again. “Oi! Sanji! Meat!”  
  
“I’m already on it, you rubber idiot! Be patient!”  
  
“Yohohoho!” Brook laughed from the swing, standing and pulling out his violin. “Shall I play something for the occasion?”  
  
“Suuuuperrr!”  
  
Nami sighed, leaning against the railing with a hand to her temple. As she glanced out at the deck with a resigned huff—she well knew when she was beaten with her crew, she felt eyes on her. Following the sensation, she found Law gazing up at her display of exasperation with a hint of amusement. He readjusted his nodachi on his shoulder, one golden eye twinkling beneath the brim of his hat as he smirked and gave the smallest of shrugs, before turning to follow an excited Bepo into the kitchen. She couldn’t help but feel a little heartened. At least someone else recognized the inconvenience, even if it wasn’t anyone on her nutty crew.

—:—:—:—

  
  
The sun was just beginning to set, amber light turning the blue water seafoam green as it hovered above the horizon. The party had just begun to get underway, and Law was on his third mug of ale. Limbs loose and a rare smile on his face, he gazed out at the water from the solitude of the upper aft deck. The sweet smell of citrus blossoms danced in the air with the mouthwatering tang of Sanji’s shish-kabobs, piped up to the deck from the kitchen chimney not far from where he leaned against the mast.  
  
He felt… peaceful; free. It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, nor one that he yet trusted, but it was nonetheless welcome. So much of his life had been dedicated to seeking vengeance against Doflamingo—building his crew, honing his skills, training and preparing and planning; until that vengeance had been achieved, he hadn’t realized how much he had pushed aside, the simple pleasures he had ignored or left unnoticed—the desires and whims he refused to allow himself.  
  
Like watching the sunset and enjoying the smell of citrus blossoms.  
  
Though there was a small, instinctually protective part of himself that refused to believe Doflamingo was really, truly dealt with, with the Shichibukai’s imprisonment a tremendous weight the likes of which he hadn’t fully comprehended had lifted from his shoulders—and for the first time in over a decade he felt able breathe deeply. His world, once black and white and grey—life and death and suffering, had been suffused with color. Everything was just a little bit brighter; sounds were sharper, smells were stronger…  
  
From the lawn deck, he heard the lilting laugh of the Straw hat navigator rise above the chatter of their two crews. Frowning down at the tightness forming in his pants, he shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Other things seemed to be… stronger, as well.  
  
He’d never given his sex drive much consideration over the course of his life. Sure he’d had the occasional liaison, but his physical desires had never been much of a preoccupation. It was yet another thing he’d come to notice these past few weeks—something that his fixation on vengeance had repressed over the course of years; now that his decades-long plan had finally come to fruition, his mind suddenly found itself wholly unoccupied, and quite open to new stimulus.  
  
It was in the wake of this realization that he, for the first time really, noticed how little the Straw hats’ navigator actually wore.  
  
While the archeologist also tended to prefer less fabric to more, she was nowhere near as daring as Nami. Sure, he had been aware of this fact for quite some time—in concept. On Punk Hazard she’d been wearing nothing more than a bikini top and jeans, and in Dressrosa she’d reduced those jeans to very short shorts. But it hadn’t quite… registered, in some higher part of his brain, all he skin left exposed.  
  
And good God what she left exposed…  
  
Objectively he recognized that she was attractive; she was all long legs and full breasts, with a narrow waist and bright eyes… Her wanted poster was a favorite among pirates and marines alike, something he’d noted with some amusement when he’d crossed the Navy’s path as a Shichibukai. But like with her attire (or lack thereof), he hadn’t quite… registered, how striking she really was, until a few weeks ago.  
  
It had made life aboard the Sunny a bit more trying in a way he hadn’t been expecting. He’d grown accustomed to Luffy’s… exuberance, grown familiar with Sanji and Zoro’s constant bickering, the small explosions originating from Usopp’s factory. All things considered, he rather felt he’d adjusted quite well to the overall lunacy of Mugiwara’s crew. His gratitude for their (albeit unexpected) loyalty on Dressrosa certainly aided his patience.  
  
But he had not anticipated, nor had he been prepared for the wholehearted return of his sex drive after recovering from his injuries aboard Bartolomeo’s ship.  
  
He quietly sighed, leaning against the main mast as he watched the sun slowly sink towards the water. In the larger scheme of things, it was a relatively small price to pay. He had some catching up to do, perhaps, once they reached a habited island; find some woman to charm into his bed for the night (or several) and relieve the tension his own efforts failed to. Until then he’d just have to suffer through Nami’s undersized wardrobe. Subconciously he rubbed his right arm; he’d been through far worse, after all.  
  
The sun was beginning to ripple and waver as Law breathed in the crisp ocean air, savoring the silence of the deck. The party would get into full swing soon enough, he was sure, and he aimed to get a little peace before the ruckus was inescapable. He lifted his mug to his lips, swallowing back the remaining ale in his mug. As he closed his eyes, basking in the warm amber light, the squeak of the observation room door caused him to creak an eye open and glance towards the source of the noise.  
  
“Oh! Hey Torao, I didn’t think anyone was up here,” Nami said with a smile, shutting the door behind her with one foot. She had a basket on one arm and shears in the other and, he couldn’t help but gratefully notice, wore a thigh-length sweater—far more than she’d been wearing earlier in the afternoon.  
  
“Nami-ya,” he acknowledged before returning his gaze to the sea, debating the pro’s and cons of descending into the commotion of the lower decks to refill his mug.  
  
She walked towards him—or rather, towards her trees which occupied the space against the other side of the mast.  
  
“Here.”  
  
Without preamble she thrust her basket at him, beckoning him to her trees as she knelt before them. “Since you’re just standing there, help me with this real quick—I want to finish before the sun goes down and I’ll work faster with two hands.”  
  
Perhaps it was the foreign feeling of calm aboard the Sunny making him unusually compliant—refusal only briefly crossed his mind, but he did as instructed. Standing next to her with the basket in hand, he watched as she thoughtfully pruned the first tree, inspecting each mikan carefully and gently placing the ripe ones in the basket.  
  
“You know there are easier ways to fend off scurvy. You don’t have to keep live citrus trees on your ship.”  
  
“That’s not why I keep them,” she answered smoothly without turning from her task, gently squeezing a mikan between her fingers before deeming it ready and giving it a gentle tug. She then turned thoughtful, pausing in her task before adding, “Well, not the primary reason anyway.”  
  
He eyed her a moment as she moved to the next tree, placing her clippings in a bin beside the small grove.  
  
“Then why do you keep them?”  
  
She smiled softly as she reached for the next fruit, rubbing a smudge of dirt from it tenderly before answering.  
  
“Because they’re from my mother’s grove. A little souvenir of home.”  
  
“You’re from east blue, right?” he asked, though he felt he already knew the answer. Mikans were a common export from that ocean.  
  
She hummed in response. “Bellemére—my mother, ran an orchard, where she raised my sister and I until I was ten. Best Mikans in all of the Conomi islands,” she boasted proudly.  
  
Law eyed her as she carefully parted the tree’s branches to reach a more hidden fruit.  
  
“Why did you leave then?”  
  
He didn’t know why he was asking, but curiosity and a lack of anything better to do encouraged the question.  
  
She stilled, fingertips gently brushing a particularly broad leaf as she gazed at it, eyes faraway. It was several moments before she answered.  
  
“She was killed; and I was kidnapped and forced into a pirate crew.” She was quiet a moment before adding with a small laugh, “It’s kind of how I met Luffy, actually.”  
  
Law’s brow furrowed and he eyed her closely as she resumed her task, but did not respond. As he was learning from his time aboard the Sunny, all of the Straw Hats had more to them than met the eye—Nami was no exception. A pirate at ten years old… he could certainly relate.  
  
She finished her pruning in silence, though it was a peaceful silence. Law’s eyes once more navigated out to the sunset, where the bright orange orb was meeting with the water, mind briefly returning to his earlier thoughts—tumbling and drifting much like the waves.  
  
Doflamingo was gone…  
  
When finally she stood, he extended the basket wordlessly and she took it with a smile, her eyes on him uncomfortably analytical. She placed her shears carefully beside the ripe fruit before returning her gaze to him, then following his eyes out to sea.  
  
“It’s strange, isn’t it? Like there’s a little part of you that refuses to believe you’re really free.”  
  
Her voice was soft, her eyes kind, yet despite that Law felt himself bristle at how easily she had read him.  
  
“And what makes you say that, Nami-ya?” he inquired guardedly.  
  
She hummed quietly, tilting her head at him with a small knowing smile as she answered.  
  
“Because I felt the same way when Luffy saved me.”  
  
She didn’t wait for a response, merely turned and walked towards the door with her hand raised behind her.  
  
“Thanks for the help.”  
  
Then, she disappeared into the library.  
  
Law stared at the door for several minutes, not quite sure what to make of her words—or her, for that matter. She was the one member of the crew he’d had little time to get to know personally, and had perhaps dismissed the most readily. But there was quite a bit more to Nami than met the eye. She was far more perceptive than he gave her credit, for one; and he was seeing more and more how foolish that dismissal was.  
  
He returned his gaze to the sea. The sun was now half hidden by the horizon, and he watched the rest slowly sink beneath the waves as he let his thoughts turn. She wasn’t wrong; Doflamingo had haunted him his entire adult life. Now he was gone, wrapped in twice his weight in seastone chains at the bottom of Impel Down. It was hard to believe that someone who had been such an omnipresent and looming specter could truly be gone, though It was a change he was happy to try and adjust to.  
  
It did, however, make him wonder about her own life, and what her careful words had only hinted at. He’d had no idea she’d been a pirate before joining Luffy—for it had been on his crew that she’d gained notoriety, and it made him wonder: who was Cat Thief Nami before she was the navigator on a Supernova’s crew?  
  
He heard her reappear on the lower decks a few minutes later, the assaulting shouts of Luffy pulling him from his thoughts.  
  
“Oi, Nami! Have you seen Torao?!”  
  
Law frowned. He had sought refuge on the furthest deck from the festivities specifically because he wanted some distance before the party became inescapable, hoping that the rest of his crew would be enough of a distraction for the other captain. Apparently not. He let out a sigh, pulling away from the mast as he made for the door—and another hiding spot—but stopped when he heard her response.  
  
“Haven’t seen him,” she responded casually. “Have you checked the sub?”  
  
He stilled, a smile growing before he let himself relax against the mast again. He uttered a silent ‘thank you’ before turning his gaze up to the darkening sky. Yes, Cat Thief Nami was full of surprises.  
  
Stars were just starting to emerge, and he decided he’d enjoy what extra time she had bought him. Straw hat would find him soon enough, and besides, he would need to head down there eventually if he wanted to refill his mug. By the sounds of the growing laughter and the noodling of a guitar—Brook, no doubt—the party was just getting started; and he knew, soon enough, he’d be swept up into the pace of the strawhats—whether he wanted to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this fic I am relying heavily on the layout of the Thousand Sunny which was released in one of the manga's SBS. If you're unfamiliar, you can [view it on the wiki](https://onepiece.fandom.com/wiki/Thousand_Sunny). In a few chapters The Polar Tang will also become a big set piece and since no layout of Law's ship has yet been released I made my own. I'll post it to [my Tumblr](https://waterchestnut123.tumblr.com/) when I finish digitizing it, so keep an eye out for that in the next few chapters.
> 
> Also, bonus points if you caught the reference to Yosaku and Jonny!


	2. The Reunion Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished early!

Chapter 2: The Reunion Party  
  
“Toraoooo, your bear is the beeeest!” Nami crooned between mouthfuls of fur as she held the furry second mate against her face in a tight hug, feet dangling just above the ground. She was on her fourth beer and sixth cup of sake, and the concept of personal space was clearly beginning to slip dangerously between her fingers.  
  
Between the two crews the Thousand Sunny was packed, and the party in full swing. Choruses of laughter and chatter rose up from all over the ship; Brook’s guitar and melodic voice drifted from the foremast bench, and the sizzle-pop of Sanji’s grilling mingled with Luffy’s cheers of “Meat! Meat! Meat!”  
  
Bepo, for his part, looked alarmed at the tipsy navigator clinging fiercely to his neck, attached like a leech to its host. She buried her face into the back of his head, and Bepo tried to hold perfectly still so as not to dislodge the woman Law was beginning to suspect might very easily topple were she jostled too severely. Not that Law was doing all that much better. While ordinarily he might scowl in distaste at the whole ridiculous situation, at the moment he found himself instead attempting to repress an ungainly snicker.  
  
Laughter broke out on the lawn deck as both Heart Pirates and Strawhats began to notice Bepo’s misfortune (or fortune, depending on who you asked). Law himself finally lost the battle with that snicker, even when Bepo turned his pleading gaze on him.  
  
“Captaaaain…!” Bepo whined, eyes wide and wary.  
  
Taking pity, he forced Bepo to endure only a few amusing minutes more before extending his hand and murmuring, “ROOM.”  
  
“Shambles.”  
  
Suddenly Nami found her arms, not around the furry first mate but around Sanji. Only momentarily startled by his sudden relocation, Sanji quickly and cheerfully adjusted to his new position between Nami’s arms. Bear now gone, her gaze turned to narrow on Law as Sanji wrapped his arms around her waist in turn, cooing her name with unashamed idolization. It only took a moment for her to turn her fist onto the poor unassuming cook, ignoring his tears and cries of “Why?!” as she turned to pout angrily at Law.  
  
“No fair, you get him all the rest of the time!”  
  
She crossed her arms under her breasts, pouting hard as she stuck out her lower lip (and her chest). He could practically feel the rest of his crew withering beside him; and while he wasn’t entirely unaffected by her efforts, neither was he one to lose a battle of wills.  
  
He smirked, nodding to the bear who now stood a good distance away, peeking out from the galley.  
  
“But what of poor Bepo-ya?”  
  
Her expression soured further, nose turning up into the air. “We were having a moment.”  
  
Glancing between her stubborn form and Bepo’s wary posture half-hidden by the door frame, he openly laughed at the ridiculous suggestion. In response she leaned forward and stuck out her tongue; but much to her surprise (and somewhat to his own—he’d blame it later on the alcohol, and certainly not the delightful blush his action would elicit from her), he took a step forward and pinched her tongue between thumb and forefinger. She took a startled step back, quickly pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smacking his hand away, looking for all the world utterly scandalized.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
He smirked as he responded, firmly though not without lingering amusement.  
  
“Be nice to my bear. Besides, if you’re looking for something furry to hug, you have Tony-ya.”  
  
Her eyes seemed to light up at that, and she immediately turned around, ignoring a still dithering Sanji as her eyes swept the deck.  
  
“Choppeeer?! Where are you?”  
  
“O’er ‘ere, Nami!” the reindeer cried from the stairs, waving one small arm as he chewed on a shish-kebab.  
  
She turned towards the little doctor, but not before swiveling to face the other captain once more, a finger pointing at him sternly.  
  
“You interrupted my Bepo hug—this isn’t over.”  
  
Law snorted, a small smile pulling at his lips against his will. “Take it up with him when you’re sober.”  
  
“Oi!” she shouted, taking a step forward and using that finger to poke him in the chest, “I’m plenty sober!”  
  
He smirked, swatting her hand away. “Yeah, and so are the rest of us.”  
  
She stared at him in confusion a moment before her eyes narrowed further. Her mouth opened but she quickly closed it again, mouth a tight line before she raised her hand to poke him silently in the chest.  
  
Law rolled his eyes. “Go hug your Tanooki.”  
  
With a smirk, he raised his hand, blue glow encompassing the ship as he murmured, “Shambles,” replacing her with the person nearest the Strawhat doctor—Clione. Nami blinked in momentary confusion as she glanced around at her new location, before her eyes found law and narrowed on him. Clione, for his part, was utterly unfazed.  
  
“Oi! I’m a reindeer!” Chopper shouted in high-pitched irritation.  
  
Law glanced apologetically at the little doctor whose shish-kebab stick was now empty and waving in the air angrily. However, before he could offer an apology, Luffy came flying over the forecastle deck towards Law, who only narrowly avoided being thrown to the ground.  
  
“Toraooooo!”  
  
Luffy landed with a flip near him, and Law eyed him with a scowl. Undeterred, Luffy grabbed him by the wrist and started pulling him with alarming strength towards the direction he had come.  
  
“Usopp, Schachi, Penguin and I are playing a game! It’s hop scotch but with sake—Usopp calls it sake scotch. You’ve gotta come play with us!”  
  
Exasperated but knowing there was likely little he could do to persuade the adamant captain otherwise, Law let himself be pulled along; but not before glancing over his shoulder to see Nami releasing Chopper from a tight hug, eying him with smug amusement as she watched Luffy drag him away. Law shot her a glare before straightening to voluntarily follow after Strawhat (he had to at least pretend to maintain some dignity), but even he had to admit the gesture was half-hearted.  
  


—:—:—:—

  
  
An hour later, Nami stepped out onto the balcony at the rear of the ship behind the aquarium bar, taking intermittent swallows from her glass of water and appreciating the cool evening breeze on her flushed face. She had perhaps overindulged just a little. Though Luffy insisted they have the party now, someone did rather need to stay sober enough to keep an eye on the sea’s condition and keep alert for any approaching ships—and as the navigator she was the best for the job, even if she was still annoyed with Luffy for his flippant dismissal of her concerns. A little water and fresh air would do her some good on both fronts.  
  
The breeze was light and the moon half full, casting silver light out across the still sea. She smiled at the peaceful sight, letting out a sigh of contentment as she listened the laughter on deck. Despite her annoyance with Luffy, she did always enjoy seeing everyone so happy and carefree. Well… most everyone anyway.  
  
Her mind cast back to earlier that evening, on the upper aft deck beside her Mikan trees. She had only gotten bits and pieces of what happened on Dressrosa—all from different members of her crew, but it had been enough to piece together a hazy image of his motivations—and the past which informed them. She had been right to assume he was being duplicitous on Punk Hazard, though what he had been duplicitous about turned out to be far less concerning than the possibilities her fears had conjured. The truth ended up being almost mundane, really: he wanted to take down an old captain who had killed someone he cared about—and he was prepared to use whatever means necessary to do it. It was almost silly she, of all people, hadn’t figured it out sooner.  
  
Though he was from a rival crew and their alliance only temporary (if he got his way—which, knowing Luffy, was admittedly slim), she couldn’t help the ache in her heart she felt for him and everything he’d been through. It sent a shiver down her spine to think he had been prepared to die on Dressrosa, if it meant killing Doflamingo. She could painfully relate; she had been prepared to do the same with Arlong there at the end, though her chances of success had been far less than his.  
  
Like Arlong, Doflamingo was a dark and dangerous captain to have worked under—vicious, vindictive, and ready to kill with little provocation. She could certainly see how he got his epithet, or rather, epithets: the Surgeon of Death; the Heart Stealer; the Dark Doctor. There was an edge of almost gleeful vindictiveness to Law in battle, and a cold, calculating cunning. Doflamingo’s influence in that area was clear; however, what had surprised her as they worked together on Punk Hazard and further on Dressrosa, was the way in which those traits had been dwarfed by the influence of the man he had been so set on avenging. Whoever he was—whatever he did for Law to garner such admiration and loyalty, had deeply affected him and so wholly overshadowed Doflamingo’s toxicity she very much doubted she would recognize the person he had been as a member of Doflamingo’s family.  
  
And yet, still further would he change.  
  
For the Law that she left behind on Dressrosa prepared to die for his cause, and the Law who met them at sea on the Sunny after Doflamingo’s defeat, were different men, subtle though the differences were. Sure he was the same surly grouch he’d always been—but a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and a different one placed back upon them. She hadn’t quite understood until some of the story had been shared with her—and then it became immediately clear to her precisely what she was seeing. He’d achieved resolution for what had haunted him all those years; but in exchange, he’d been given back his life—and now he had to figure out what to do with the years he had been ready to sacrifice in the name of vengeance.  
  
Yet another thing she could relate to.  
  
It was small things she noticed first upon his return. He was warmer, kinder—certainly more tolerant of her crew’s antics. Perhaps part of the change had merely to do with a firmer sense of trust established between the two crews. Certainly she had chalked it up to simply that, at first; but it had been enough of a change to warrant an eye on him, and that was how she noticed other things as well. He smiled more, when he thought no one was looking. She caught him staring out at sea with faraway eyes instead of leaning against the mast with his hat down, as though trying to block out the world’s existence. The duplicity she had sensed in him on Punk Hazard—even up to the drop with Cesar, was gone. He probably hadn’t anticipated upholding his end of the alliance’s goal to take down Kaido if he’d been prepared to die on Dressrosa, but he nonetheless stuck with her crew on the long journey to overthrowing a Yonkou. He was in this alliance now wholeheartedly—something that hadn’t been the case before, and had been, for her, a source of concern.  
  
Overall it was a marked change, one she hadn’t expected—and one that certainly cast him in a very different light; but she had nonetheless been… gladdened, to witness it.  
  
Which was why, when she saw him looking so lost staring out at the sunset on the upper aft deck when she went to tend to her trees, she had roped him in to helping. It was why she had said what she had said to him, despite never sharing such intimate sentiments with him before. It was hard to be in that place; she remembered it—the long, sleepless nights after Arlong’s defeat, staring up at the Merry’s ceiling, thoughts tumbling in no coherent pattern save for the repeating words, “I’m free—I’m free.”  
  
In a way she never could have anticipated, he had managed to subvert all of her expectations and fears of who and what he might be, and prove himself to be nothing short of what she of all people would best understand.  
  
She was willing to admit, now—at least to herself, that over the course of their alliance she had come to like him. Ever-present grumpiness aside, he was clever and witty and reliable, always thinking a step ahead and equipped with no end of back-up plans. This in particular she appreciated amongst her hard-headed, reckless crew. He cared deeply for his own as well, as became evidenced by his eagerness on their way to the rendezvous point with the Hearts after Dressrosa. He was cool, calm, and collected in the face of grim odds—a trait she admired in Luffy as well; and he wielded his power with the care, precision and grace of an experienced surgeon. Fitting, she supposed, given the devil fruit he possessed.  
  
All that, and (another thing she would only ever admit to herself) it was nice to have some eye candy on the ship for once. As objectively handsome as she knew the members of her crew to be (skeleton, cyborg, and reindeer notwithstanding), they were family—and it was difficult to find people you viewed as such attractive. At the least, she would never give Zoro the appreciative eye she had found herself giving Law on more than one occasion. As much as she loved the one-eyed doofus.  
  
She took another long drink from her glass, closing her eyes and focusing on the sea breeze across her cheeks, which were still faintly tingling. Not yet sober, but getting there. As she opened her eyes to gaze once more out at the liquid landscape, she heard the quiet creak of the door to the aquarium bar behind her. Turning her head, she saw Law stepping out onto the balcony, shutting the door quietly behind him. Speak of the devil.  
  
He glanced at her a few feet down, catching her eye.  
  
“Nami-ya,” he acknowledge, before heading her way. “Mind if I join you?”  
  
She shook her head as she turned her gaze back out to the water.  
  
“Get tired of Usopp’s drinking game?”  
  
He smirked, leaning over the railing beside her.  
  
“Nose-ya demanded I leave after my fifth win.”  
  
She let out a quiet chuckle, giving him a quick once over.  
  
“Yeah, you look like you’ve won five rounds of sake scotch.”  
  
It was a cup of sake each turn, plus an extra if you won, so he’d had at least ten glasses. Though steady on his feet, the ever-present tension in his shoulders was gone. A small smile turned up the corners of his lips, and his face was just a tad rosy. She smiled into her glass. It seemed the Dark Doctor did indeed have a lighter side.  
  
He turned to her, a brow raised. “Are you insinuating I can’t hold my liquor, Nami-ya?” He raised a hand to his chest as though hurt, and she couldn’t help but laugh at uncharacteristic the gesture.  
  
“You’re looking at the sake-scotch record holder. So yeah, compared to me.” She raised a brow teasingly, her smile smug. He eyed her with interest.  
  
“More than five wins?”  
  
Her smile widened into a grin. “Try ten.”  
  
He raised a brow appreciatively, smirking, eyes glinting.  
  
“Maybe we should see who’s the better drinker, then,” he challenged. Nami laughed.  
  
“You’re on—next time.” She wiggled her glass of water at him. “I’m trying to sober up at the moment. Someone on this ship needs to be alert, since we’re in the middle of the sea.”  
  
He hummed thoughtfully, turning his gaze back out at the water. “Can’t argue with someone on Straw Hat’s crew trying to do something sensible for once.”  
  
“Hey!” she chastised, elbowing him in the arm. “We’re—we have… sensible moments…” Her poorly considered objection fell flat and she frowned a bit, Law chuckling at her attempt. Nami couldn’t help but smile a bit too—their lack of sensibility was often one of her chief complaints as well. Besides, it was a bit difficult to defend the indefensible.  
  
They settled into silence, both gazing out at the sea and the stars shining brightly against a blanket of navy blue. The half-moon’s light reflected on the water’s surface, refracting blue and white, making the ocean look dark and deep and full of secrets. The sight before her was one of the very reasons she loved the seas so. She rested her cheek on her palm, taking a slow sip of the water as she let out a content sigh.  
  
“You are… not what I expected you to be.”  
  
She turned at Law’s unexpected interjection, soft and thoughtful, finding him staring at her with a considering gaze.  
  
She gave him a half smile, brow arching. “Oh? And what did you expect me to be?”  
  
He paused a moment, considering her in silence.  
  
“Simple.”  
  
She laughed, tucking a hair behind her ear before returning her gaze to the water. It was a common misconception of both her and Robin. In the pirate world, beauty was often mistaken for airheadedness—especially when the most powerful female pirate looked like Charlotte Lin Lin did. The only thing which garnered either of them a second consideration was the size of their bounties.  
  
“Well,” she said with mock-reproval, “Glad to have cleared up _that_ foolish notion.”  
  
He hummed in agreement, and silence lapsed between them once more. After a moment she looked back at him, considering him in turn.  
  
“I’ll admit… you’re not what I expected you to be, either. I was sure you’d betray us at some point. I wouldn’t have thought you could get so comfortable, but Luffy was right—you’re a good guy.”  
  
He frowned a little, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”  
  
She nudged him playfully in the ribs. “Oh, don’t try to deny it! Despite your complaints, you helped heal those kids on Punk Hazard, and I’m sure I saw you smiling earlier when Luffy carted you away. You’ve even grown comfortable enough around us to let your guard down, and I think that says a lot.”  
  
He frowned harder. “I never let my guard down.”  
  
“Oh?” She raised a brow, smirking. “Is that so?”  
  
He merely continued to glare at her. She grinned.  
  
“Then how did I end up with this?”  
  
She reached into the scoop neck of her sweater, and from deep between her breasts pulled out his wallet, waving it teasingly before his face. His eyes widened.  
  
“How did you—?”  
  
“You’re an ex-shichibukai and supernova captain with a half billion bounty,” she interrupted. “You’re clever and watchful enough to have noticed it was missing muuuuuch earlier in the evening.”  
  
He reached out a hand to grab it, scowl on his face, but she darted backwards with a Cheshire grin.  
  
“But you didn’t. Because you trust us, and it didn’t occur to you to look.”  
  
“Room!”  
  
Her humor dissipated as the shimmering blue sphere expanded around them and she huffed, tossing it at him before he could use his abilities to take it by force. He caught it expertly in one hand as the blue glow faded.  
  
“Alright, alright, no need to get fussy. You can pretend you don’t like us if it makes you feel better. And I was going to give it back to you tomorrow anyway.”  
  
Glancing at her warily, he opened the wallet and expanded the pocket. He looked back up to her with a glare, lowering the bifolded leather and extending a hand wordlessly. She pouted, arms across her chest, but he only glared harder.  
  
With a sigh, she reached between her beasts once more and pulled out a wad of folded bills, handing them back with a huff. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t notice—it was a pretty nice haul.  
  
“Spoilsport,” she complained.  
  
He tucked the bills back in his wallet before putting it securely in his pocket. She settled back against the railing of the balcony, taking a sip of her water. However his gaze remained on her, eyes dropping from her face down to her chest where they lingered.  
  
“Is that why you dress that way? Ready access to your, ah… pocket?”  
  
She turned to him with a raised brow, not quite following. He gestured to her vaguely before finally adding for clarification, a faint shading to his face, “Bikins and low-cut shirts…”  
  
She snorted derisively. “Why do you dress like a snow leopard?”  
  
He frowned. “Whats wrong with spots?”  
  
“What’s wrong with bikinis?” she countered, eyes narrowed.  
  
He paused before responding. “It just seems… impractical,” he said carefully.  
  
She glared, aura darkening as she crossed her arms angrily, turning to face him. “You mean you think I dress like a slut.”  
  
“I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, raising his hands in defense.  
  
“No, but you were thinking it,” she accused knowingly, a frown still pulling at her features. His mouth open and closed wordlessly several times before she finally sighed, turning a thoughtful gaze back out to the stars.  
  
“I don’t bother considering what other people think about how I dress,” she admitted, voice softer than intended. “I dress how I want—I didn’t always have that luxury.”  
  
She didn’t elaborate; didn’t mention keeping her hair short because Arlong’s crew would pull and yank her around by it any time it got too long, didn’t mention growing up in hand-me-downs and staring longingly at all the latest fashions in shop windows when she was out thieving; didn’t mention the repressed desire to show off her figure when it began to come in, simply because it was the only thing all her own that she had to her name she could feel proud of. Instead she turned to him, a sly smile pulling at her lips.  
  
“The fact that I can both distract my targets and leave such ample cleavage readily available to store pilfered items between is just a bonus.” She offered him a saucy wink, finding perhaps too much enjoyment in the way his eyes widened at her unexpectedly direct reply. “How about you, leopard man? Why all the spots?”  
  
It took him several seconds to recover, pulling his gaze from her to stare down at his hands draped over the railing. After a time he pulled his hat off his head revealing a mess of dark hair beneath it, and eyed the garment thoughtfully for several silent seconds. She thought, for a moment, he would dismiss her question or ignore it entirely—and so was surprised when he actually answered.  
  
“I’ve had this since—since I was young. I guess over the years I just… grew fond of the pattern.”  
  
He twirled it on one finger, mood visibly souring as he continued to stare at it. The tension in his shoulders was back, and the frown lines on his face were deepening. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen a thousand times before—he was the king of grump, after all; and though she didn’t know why, his sudden decline in mood deeply bothered her. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or the stillness of the evening begging to be disrupted like the still waters of a pond—but she was seized by a sudden need to distract him from whatever melancholy had gripped him. Before he could notice her change in demeanor, Nami plucked the hat from his hands. Mouth open with an objection on the tip of his tongue, he froze as she placed it on her head, putting on an exaggerated scowl and crossing her arms the way he always did.  
  
“What do you think? Do I make a good Torao?”  
  
She scowled harder and he glowered at her, but despite it she could see the smile which threatened to pull up the corners of his lips.  
  
“Very funny,” he responded flatly.  
  
He reached out to yank the hat off her head, but she jumped back and out of his reach, sticking her tongue out at him with a teasing smile. He moved to close the distance between them, but once more she was quicker, pulling out of his reach. Their game of cat and mouse continued along the circumference of the balcony, Nami laughing tauntingly at his pitiful effort, always remaining just out of reach—until finally he had her pressed up against the wall at the opposite end, caged between his arms.  
  
Just as suddenly as the humor of the moment had blossomed, it faded, both becoming acutely aware of the position they suddenly found themselves in. Their nearness—of little consequence while they leaned companionably side-by-side against the railing, now felt all-consuming; and his eyes—only moments ago playful, were now edged with something intense and unfamiliar, making her feel very small beneath his burning golden gaze. Her pulse spiked, and it felt all of a sudden very hard to breath—as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the space between them.  
  
His gaze sharpened on her as a hand slowly moved from the wall beside her, reaching up towards her face. Her heart pounded harder, and she had to remind herself to breathe as his fingertips brushed the hair beside her cheek, lingering for a brief moment before reaching up and lifting his hat carefully off her head—eyes never leaving hers. He gently placed it back on his own head, the tiniest of smirks lifting the corner of his lip and eyes darkening the longer they held her own.  
  
His gaze was both inescapable and strangely hypnotic. In the span of seconds, it made her forget they were from rival crews, forget that anyone could walk out onto the balcony and see them in this compromising position (innocent though it still was)—forget all the reasons she shouldn’t reach up and touch his face; but it couldn’t override years of training and a lifetime of deeply-rooted instinct. For at that moment a chill yet humid breeze—sharper and harsher than any that had blown across the waters all evening, blew now across the balcony, demanding her attention.  
  
The conditions at sea were suddenly and rapidly changing; a storm was coming.  
  
Her eyes broke free of Law’s hold and snapped out to the water with alarm. In the distance she could see faint white caps reflected in the moonlight, violent and growing larger. She felt her stomach drop to her ankles. Dammit, not now, she wasn’t nearly sober enough for this…  
  
Turning her attention away from the water, she grabbed Law’s wrist and hurried for the nearest door, dragging him along without explanation. He staggered briefly in her hold, before pulling his wrist free and managing a confused, “What—?!”  
  
“A storm is coming,” she informed him tersely, not slowing her pace. “I told Luffy this could happen…” she muttered angrily, passing quickly through the aquarium bar with Law on her heel before exiting out onto the main deck and an assault of noise from Luffy’s current arm wrestling match. She made for the railing, cupping her hands to her mouth and shouting urgently over the hubbub.  
  
“Oi! Party’s over! We’ve got a storm coming—all hands on deck!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter out mid-late November? Thanks for reading--comments are always appreciated!


	3. The Consequences of Poor Party Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we get into chapter 3, as promised, here is part 1 of the  
[Polar Tang layout](https://waterchestnut123.tumblr.com/post/188897630249/the-polar-tang-part-12) that I designed for this fic! Be sure to check it out before or after reading.

“Hard to Port! HARD TO PORT!” 

Nami clung to the bannister of the top deck as though her life depended on it (and realistically, it probably did) as she shouted instructions to Franky at the helm. Remaining upright was a struggle, the vicious rocking of the ship threatening to dissolve what tenuous equilibrium she had established in her inebriated state. Violent gusts whipped her hair in every direction, cold rain pelted her face, and as a massive wave came crashing down—just shy of where the ship had been moments ago—she debated just how hard she was going to pummel Luffy when all this was over.

The storm had hit fast and hard, but she’d been able to give enough forewarning to the two crews that they were, so far, successfully staying just ahead of the worst of it. How long that would continue to be the case, however, she wasn’t sure. They were in no shape to navigate the Sunny: Usopp was completely passed out after his game of sake-scotch—tucked away in the men’s quarters by Zoro before they set off; the usually unflappable Zoro was unsteady on his feet as the ship rolled violently with the tide—a sure sign of his extreme level of intoxication; Luffy was struggling to keep his meat down, and Brook couldn’t stop laughing at Zoro’s frequent stumbling and subsequent cursing. What little headway they had made was entirely attributable to her early detection. The storm was gaining—and their ability to outrun it was rapidly deteriorating.

“Franky—we need a coup de burst! We can’t keep this up!”

“The cola engine is empty—it needs a new barrel! You’ll have to do it, though, I’ve gotta stay on the wheel!” Franky shouted back, holding tight to the spokes as they pulled violently starboard.

Nami worried her lip. Traversing the ship in her current state and in the present conditions—with every wooden surface slick with rainwater, was firmly in the “bad idea” category; but she didn’t have much choice. She eyed Franky’s wrestling match with the wheel and took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Alright—be ready! We need to head directly east by southeast to outrun the storm!”

“You got it, sis!” He then turned his attention out to the deck. “Oi! Everyone! Raise the sails!”

Wiping sopping hair out of her eyes, she gripped the railing tightly, taking careful steps towards the deck stairs. It felt like an ageless journey to get to the rear of the ship—her progress slowed by the ship’s turbulent thrashing. She was forced onto all fours as she crossed the lawn deck due to a sudden bout of nausea; though she rather hoped at the least that lowering her profile would reduce the likelihood of being blown off the ship by a violent gust. After covering in almost five minutes a distance that should have taken less than thirty seconds to cross, she found her way aft. Sliding down the ladder into the bowels of the ship, she planted her feet carefully on the floor of the cola room, wiping water from her face and taking quick stock of her surroundings.

The cola engine was currently filled with empty barrels as Franky had said, and she quickly set about removing them. She struggled to place the full, fresh barrels in their place—heavy in their own right, made worse by the unsteady ship—but eventually managed to work all three into place with a final, frustrated kick. She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard Franky shouting instructions topside, then the whir of the engine coming to life.

She turned to make for the ladder again, grateful that it would soon all be over—however that was where she made her mistake. Grabbing hold of the rungs, she didn’t get more than four feet up before she heard a particularly strong wave violently crash against the side of the ship, and felt a sudden, sharp lurch. With her weary grip and wet shoes, she lost her footing and tumbled down the ladder, landing harshly on her ankle and feeling a resounding crack followed by a sharp, shooting pain in her ankle.

“AGHHH!”

Her vision went briefly white as she hurriedly pulled the injured leg out from beneath her, cradling it delicately between her palms. Eyes tightly shut and leaking tears, she grit her teeth against the searing ache, feeling her stomach turn in response to the pain. She had barely repositioned herself comfortably at the base of the ladder when she felt the force of the coup de burst push her against the rungs, briefly stealing her breath. The laughter of her crew above followed quickly after, echoing down the chute and signaling their escape from the storm’s clutches. She had that to be thankful for at least.

After a minute, as the ship began to slow, she let out a slow, shaky breath and turned her head up, eyes still leaking pained tears. Now she just needed one of those idiots to carry her to the infirmary.

“Oi! Luffy!” she shouted up the chute, voice pitchy with pain. “Get your rubber ass down here and give me a hand!”

—:—:—:—:—:—:—

“What did you do?” 

Law stared down at the swollen mass that was now her ankle with an amused, if dumbfounded, expression, Chopper’s ice pack resting beside her calf atop the infirmary bed. They had managed to find an island nearby with a protected cove at which to make repairs; and it was good, too, as the ship had gotten quite a good trouncing in the storm. Or perhaps it had been their abysmal reaction time. Either way, they had a ship to fix.

And a navigator too, apparently.

Nami grit her teeth as Law gently turned her ankle to examine it, still a bit tender as the local anesthetic had yet to take full effect. A broken tibia was Chopper’s diagnosis—and quite bad, too. No sooner had they had docked than Chopper hailed down Law in his sub who, according to the tiny doctor, was far better equipped to mend such a break with his ope ope no mi than he was with only his hands. Er, hooves.

“I slipped and fell down the ladder in the energy room,” she ground out, attempting not to flinch at the gentle pressure of his fingers.

Law released her ankle, turning to her with a raised brow. “You know you really should have been more careful going up a wet ladder while drunk,” he commented mildly.

She glared at him, eyes narrowed and expression distinctly unamused. “Shut it, Doctor spots. Can you fix it or not?”

He repressed a bemused smirk as he stood, crossing his arms as he eyed her ankle thoughtfully, then turned to Chopper.

“Bring her to my operating room on the sub—I can reset the bone and mend the damage to the surrounding tissue, but it will require surgery. It shouldn’t take too long, but even if I speed up the healing process, the recovery will still be almost a week—and she’ll need to be careful for another month after that. We can go over follow-up care once I’m done.”

“Oh, good!” Chopper breathed a sigh of relief, tense shoulders relaxing. “Thank you so much!”

But Nami’s ears were still ringing with the word ‘surgery’. A wave of anxiety washed over her, momentary visions of an old memory—of bloody scalpels and chunks of flesh littering a concrete floor flashed through her mind; but just as quickly as they came she shut them out, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth until the images ceased their assault. As she opened them she forced the anxiety down, allowing the much more manageable emotion of anger to take its place. Grinding her teeth, she turned towards the open door, shouting with renewed irritation for the closest thing she had to a punching bag.

“Where is that rubber idiot?! I am going to give him such a beating!!”

—:—:—:—:—:—:—

Chopper, in heavy point, carried Nami onto Law’s sub, down an elevator and into the operating theater where he placed her gently onto the operating table. Once she was situated, Chopper wished her a speedy recovery and departed to tend to the rest of the crew’s numerous scrapes and bruises.

Law busied himself preparing additional anesthesia for injection, as well as pulling out the needed equipment. Nami eyed him warily as he worked, placing scalpels, cotton pads, and other supplies upon a metal tray.

Finally ready to begin he turned, activating his room to encompass the bed—only to notice his patient gripping the sheets beneath her in a white knuckled grip, her eyes periodically darting anxiously towards his tray despite the otherwise cool expression of her features. He paused before reaching for his scalpel, eying her thoughtfully. After the roughness of Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, he wouldn’t have thought she’d suffer from something like medical anxiety.

“The surgery shouldn’t take more than an hour,” he said carefully as he pulled the tray towards him, situating himself near the foot of the operating table. “You can stay conscious while I operate, or I can sedate you, if you’d prefer. You won’t feel anything either way.”

“Sedation,” she said without hesitation.

He nodded, reaching for a mask draped atop a metal canister beside the bed. As he approached, he noticed that her posture had not relaxed, and she eyed the mask apprehensively. Drawing upon his patience, he gently pushed her down flat onto the bed.

“It’ll be over before you know it.”

She closed her eyes, fingers clenching and un-clenching as she took a calming breath, and Law seized the opportunity. Quickly raising his arm, he gently pressed the mask against her face and activated the flow of gas. Her eyes flew open and she attempted to sit up again; but his hand on her shoulder was steady, and though he was briefly subjected to her signature glare, her gaze quickly became unfocused and her eyelids fluttered shut.

Finally, he could begin.

The surgery went smoothly. Her fracture was, as he anticipated, quite bad, and the surrounding tissue severely irritated. Thankfully, though, it had suffered little actual damage. Copious evidence of a previous fracture in the same location suggested that to be the reason for the severity of the break; the bone structure was already quite weak.

In total it took no more than an hour, and by the time the sedative was due to wear off, he had finished the surgery and already started a healing acceleration treatment.

The sound of her groggy voice alerted him to her wakefulness, words faintly slurred.

“Mmmm… ’s nice,” she mumbled.

He lifted his head, glowing palm unmoving from its location atop her ankle. He’d been told by his patients before that the treatment felt vaguely like warm water gently flowing through the affected area—it seemed Nami agreed. Slowly, her eyelids struggled open and amber eyes turned to gaze blearily at him. He could tell from the slightly vacant look on her face that, though wakeful, the sedative was keeping her higher faculties from emerging.

She blinked slowly, repeatedly, gazing at him with her head cocked against the pillow in confusion, “Wha… Hi—hi Torao. Hi. Whas… whas’re you doin’?” she glanced from his face to where his hand rested atop her ankle, then back to his face, expression full of childlike curiosity.

“Healing your ankle,” he answered noncommittally.

She blinked at him, then shifted slightly on the operating table before her eyes widened and she attempted to sit up on her elbows

“Where did you put my foot?” She asked urgently.

Law repressed a snort. While the sedative had worn off enough for her to wake, the local anesthetic may not have, and it was likely sensation from the mid-calf down was, at the least, muted.

“Your foot is securely attached to your leg, Nami-ya. As you can see.” He gestured with his free hand towards the ankle he was working on. She followed his hand with her eyes, but didn’t look convinced.

“But I can’t feel it. You must have taken it off.”

“You can’t feel it because I numbed your ankle for the surgery. Your foot is still attached,” he reasserted firmly, if with a hint of annoyance.

She narrowed her eyes as she examined his face closely. “And what’d I need surgery for, hm? HM?”

He glanced up, feeling his eyebrow twitch with growing irritation as he answered, “Because you broke your ankle.”

At his words her eyes widened, and she nodded with sudden clarity. “Oh—OH! I broke my ankle!” Then, more softly, “I broke my ankle…”

He rolled his eyes, adjusting his hand with a quiet sigh. He never was a fan of dealing with sedative-induced delirium. He had hoped he might be done before she woke expressly so that he could avoid this, but luck was not on his side.

For several minutes she seemed content to watch him work, lying back against her pillow silently as she stared down at him. Then, suddenly, she grinned, sitting up on her elbows again as her gaze rose to his face with childlike enthusiasm.

“Hey—hey Torao… ask me if I’m orange.”

Law’s eyes rose to meet hers, and he felt that twitch in his brow return.

“No.”

She immediately frowned, looking thoroughly put out. “Oh, come on! Ask me! Pleeeeease?”

He sighed, drawing on his patience. He was almost done, he reminded himself—almost done.

“Are you orange, Nami-ya?”

She continued to smile at him, biting her lower lip to withhold her glee, before finally blurting out, “No!” and dissolving into giggles.

He stared at her flatly as her chest heaved with her laughter, feeling a distinct desire to put her under again. Thankfully it seemed her poor attempt at humor had, for the moment, satisfied her; for as her laughter died down she simply settled more comfortably on her elbows, eyes curiously watching his glowing hand slowly, carefully tracking over her ankle.

He was rewarded with another few moments of peace, before she broke the silence again.

“What’re you doing?”

He momentarily shut his eyes before forcing out an answer. “I’m healing your ankle. Like I told you.”

She frowned slightly, clarifying her question. “No, I mean… aspif—epsific—specifically.”

“I’m accelerating your body’s natural healing process by increasing blood flow and feeding your cells mitochondrial energy.”

He had hoped the specificity of his answer would disinterest her from further query; but no. Of course not. Instead, she raised her thoughtful gaze up to his face, blinking rapidly as she inquired further.

“How d’you do that?”

“By feeding you some of my life force,” he answered noncommittally, readjusting himself on his stool.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, expression becoming sharp despite the bleariness still coloring her expression. “Is… that doesn’ seem like it would be very good for you.”

He shrugged. “By the time I’m done with your treatments, it will probably have taken a few days off my lifespan.”

With unexpected speed and strength she pulled herself upright and yanked his hand off her ankle, expression horrified.

“No!!”

He eyed her with a furrowed brow, crossing his arms over his chest in distinct irritation. “No?” he echoed incredulously, “You were the one who complained about the recovery time.”

She shifted in the bed, moving her arms to support her weight on her hands as she started to sway. The sudden move had clearly been an effort. “I was… I was just mad ‘cuz I didn’t want to have surgery! Don’t waste your life like that! You can’t!”

Once more Law rolled his eyes, moving his hand back to her ankle and re-activating the acceleration. “It’s just a few days, Nami-ya. I lost years on Doflamingo.”

Again she surprised him with her strength as she leaned forward in an attempt to shove his hand away—but this time he wouldn’t be deterred. He grabbed her with his free hand by the wrist to hold her at bay; but she just reached for him with her other hand to pull him off her ankle—and before he could understand how exactly it had happened, they were engaged in slap fight, with Nami managing to muster a shocking amount of speed and strength.

But that strength didn’t last long. Her precision and speed quickly faded and she began to sway in her upright position. Taking advantage, he grabbed both of her wrists, holding them away and her upright, exasperated and irritated in equal measure.

“Nami-ya!” he commanded sharply, “Would you _stop_.”

“No!” she asserted stubbornly, weakly struggling against his grip. “You just got your life back, and at a huge cost—I won’t let you be so quick to waste it—especially on me!”

That was… not an answer he was expecting. His surprise caused his grip to slacken and she used the opportunity to slip free of him, settling her arms across her chest with a frown. His eyes moved to meet with hers, and though her gaze was still a bit hazy, they were nonetheless resolute. His brow furrowed and he frowned, thinking. He had not anticipated she would be upset about this, nor that she would seem to carry such… strong opinions, as to how he spent his life force.

“This is the nature of the Ope Ope no Mi, Nami-ya,” he said carefully, “Certain abilities feed on the user—that’s just how it works.”

He allowed a moment for his words to sink in before placing his hand back on her ankle, re-activating the acceleration; and when she weakly reached to try and remove it again he grabbed her wrist with his free hand, eying her sharply.

“It’s a worthwhile use of my abilities, and a relatively small sacrifice I’m willing to make,” he said with finality, the glow under his palm igniting again. “If there is anyone between our two crews we need able-bodied, the navigators are at the top of that list. Stop _fighting_ me or I’ll put you under again.”

She frowned at him, and as he released her wrist she thankfully settled back against the pillow instead of making for his hand again. She let out a frustrated breath, closing her eyes. Her posture seemed weary—the energy expended fighting him off had clearly taken it out of her. She remained still and silent for some time, and Law used that opportunity to examine his progress. The swelling had gone down significantly, and he could now feel the bone beneath her skin, smoother now at the break site as the bone began to knit neatly back together.

“Luffy said you made a room so large on Dressrosa he couldn’t even see it,” she said quietly, breaking the stillness. “Is that what cost years of your life?”

He raised his head, seeing her sitting up on her arms again as she eyed him.

“Mugiwara-ya didn’t regale you with the details?” he commented lightly before returning to his examination. She frowned.

“He’s not a complete idiot, you know. He does know when something’s personal and to keep his mouth shut. When I asked, he only told me the basics, and said I should ask you if I wanted to know the rest.”

Law turned to study her annoyed expression, surprised by her words—and Luffy’s. He had assumed that the whole of the battle would become common knowledge to Straw Hat’s crew, as much as he wouldn’t prefer it.

Luffy’s… unexpected tact—a concept he would never have ever thought could be associated with the lunatic captain, was… appreciated.

He turned his gaze back to her ankle, sliding his hand beneath it to examine the tendons. Given that he doubted she would remember much, if any of this conversation later, he decided to humor her.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

She stared at him wide-eyed, expression dumbfounded.

“Why?”

“…Why?”

“Yeah—why would you just… waste years of your life like that?”

“To maintain situational advantage,” he answered absently, carefully feeling along the achilles tendon. “And the years weren’t wasted—they ended up saving my life.”

She stared up at him with something suspiciously like concern, voice quiet. “What happened?”

He paused, eying her a moment, contemplating. It wasn’t something he particularly liked to dwell on, but…

“I was shot by Doflamingo. Twenty-two times, I believe. By keeping up my room too large to be seen, I was able to remove the bullets and heal myself while Doflamingo was busy with Luffy, thinking I was dead.”

She sat up fully, her eyes widening in alarm and a hand moving to cover her mouth. Silence, and the occasional metal creak of the Polar Tang as it shifted in the waves were the only sounds to fill the space between them. She said nothing for several moments, and he was content to leave it at that—but then she quietly spoke, voice soft and words unexpected.

“But… you were still shot, right? The Ope Ope no Mi can’t stop you from… feeling all those bullets—right?”

He held her gaze briefly before offering a small but clear nod.

Her eyes widened a moment before she let out a breath, turning towards the wall, eyes far away.

“I thought you seemed different when you came back to the Sunny with the others,” she said softly. “Luffy told me that you used to be a member of Doflamingo’s crew until he killed someone you cared about; that you had allied with us only because you wanted help getting revenge, and were willing to do anything to get it.” She lifted her head and her eyes met his—her gaze uncomfortably knowing.

“I get it—I do. An old captain you hated, who took someone you loved away from you…” She closed her eyes, one hand raising to unconsciously rub her tattooed shoulder. “I would understand more than anyone else. I’ve wanted to ask for a while, but… I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk about it.”

She opened her eyes and gazed at him with a small, sad smile.

“And why would you understand?” he asked coolly, though with the unexpected turn in conversation he felt suddenly anything but.

She turned her gaze down at the thin cotton blanket lying across her lap, thumb gently stroking her tattoo—though, in looking more closely, he could see her thumb was actually circling a scar hidden beneath the ink.

“When I was ten, the Arlong pirates invaded my village, taking over my island and demanding everyone pay tribute or be killed. We were poor, and my mother had only enough saved to pay for my sister and I. So… Arlong shot her, right in front of us. And when he found out I could make maps, he kidnapped me and forced me into his crew.”

Her voice had grown small, and Law could tell, recalling these events was difficult for her. He felt uncomfortably voyeuristic; as though he were becoming privy to something too intimate, too… familiar—things not meant for the ears of a rival. He was about to tell her she needn’t continue—he felt fairly confident she wouldn’t have were she not under the influence of a drug; but what she said next halted his words on the tip of his tongue, and curiosity overtook his better judgment.

“I hated him so much,” she said with a venom unbefitting the quiet atmosphere. “I spent eight years as one of his executives—robbing pirates to try and buy back mine and my village’s freedom. That was the deal I made with him. The villagers didn’t know why I joined, and they hated me for it—or at least, that's what they wanted me to think.” Her anger dissipated slightly, and she let out a sigh.

“When I had finally gotten almost all of the money, he sent his marine lackeys after me to confiscate it all. He never had any intention of honoring our agreement—never intended to let me go; just wanted to give me false hope.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath, then turned to him, a self-deprecating smile on her lips.

“I found out later that the villagers knew all along—they’d just been playing a role so that if I ever wanted to run away, I wouldn’t feel guilty for abandoning them and leaving them all to die. When they found out about Arlong’s duplicity, they finally decided to go after him. I gave up and went with them; I thought I had no other way out. I was going to kill him, or die trying.”

She stared at him pointedly, then—eyes both fierce and gentle. Her gaze felt strangely piercing for a woman only on the cusp of cogency; and yet he found himself unable to maintain her gaze. He turned his eyes back down to her ankle.

“What happened?” He asked quietly as he shifted his fingers over her ankle bone. She smiled fondly.

“Luffy.”

Ah. Figures.

Silence pervaded once more, and after a moment she settled back down onto the bed, closing her eyes with a quiet exhale.

He allowed himself a moment for his mind to drift back through her story. She was the one Straw Hat he’d gotten to know the least. Their interactions on Punk Hazard had been rushed and frenzied—as most of the endeavor had been, and they’d been separated throughout the events of Dressrosa. Yet it seemed they had more in common than he ever would have guessed.

“I think I would have missed you, y’know,” she said suddenly, unexpectedly, pulling his mind from his thoughts. He lifted his head to find her smiling softly, eyes still closed.

“If you’d died on Dressrosa,” she clarified. “You’re a good guy and a good captain. You’ve grown on me,” she added, her smile broadening just a bit.

Law’s brow furrowed as he gazed at her sincere smile, unsure how to take, let alone react, to the sentiment. He decided instead to deflect.

“Me, or my bear?” he inquired coolly, thinking back to the night before. Nami laughed.

“Okay,” she said with a yawn, “You _and_ the bear.”

Silence stretched between them once more, and Nami hummed contentedly as he moved his hand back to the top of her ankle. He forced his attention away from her face and back to his work, fingers trailing over the the site of the break one last time.

“Thas’ nice…” she murmured, settling deeper into her pillow, “I take it back… you can spend your life force doing that any time.”

Law felt a small smile pull up the corners of his lips, but he didn’t respond, focusing instead on finishing his examination. It seemed just about where he wanted it to be for now—mended enough to get her through until tomorrow. With a flick of his wrist he stopped the acceleration, looking back up ready to pronounce her treatment finished for the day—but instead he found that she had fallen back asleep.

With a breath, he slumped back on his stool with a weary sigh. The acceleration always left him feeling drained, but her argumentativeness—and the unexpected conversation, had taken more of a toll on him than he’d anticipated.

Had he not spend so many years as a pirate, he might find it difficult to imagine she had ever struggled against such hardships. She certainly didn’t carry herself that way; she was clever and headstrong, at time ferocious and at others, playful. Though he hadn’t seen much of it for himself, he knew from the other members of her crew that she could be… tempestuous and domineering; though they remarked upon it with the utmost fondness.

She was flirtatious and often smiling; yet if her words were to be believed, she had suffered—isolated and alone, most of her life. But still she found a way to be cheerful, and to demonstrate seemingly genuine care about his own hardships, even though there was little reason to. He was a captain of a rival crew, in a temporary alliance with her own—beyond his abilities to fulfill their agreement to take down Kaido, there was nothing to be gained from deeply and truly caring. He was torn between thinking her abundantly kind or outright foolish.

But, then again, when had anyone on Mugiwara’s crew ever made much sense?

And though he was loath to admit it, she had struck a cord. Under the lingering influence of the sedative, she was just so damned sincere in her concern. He couldn’t even remember the last time a relative stranger gave two shits about the things he’d been through—maybe the nuns at the church in Flevance. He’d certainly never met anyone with a story like his before, either.

And though he was even more loath to admit it, he was also left feeling guilty. He shouldn’t have let her carry on the way she had. Even if he couldn’t have stopped her, he should have at least tried; but, perhaps selfishly, he’d found himself wanting to know what made her tick. He knew she wasn’t in her right mind, and if she remembered any of their conversation when she woke up, he suspected she would be cross at best, furious at worst.

Though, he couldn’t help the small smile which curved up his lips as he thought back to her final comment. He’d grown on her, huh?

A quiet, yet firm knock came at the door and he wearily stood from his stool. With a click he turned off the brighter overhead lights and opened the door, finding Penguin on the other side.

“Lunch is ready, captain,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder. “Do you want me to bring something for you and Miss Nami?”

Law glanced over his shoulder at her still and slumbering form. Turning back to Penguin, he shook his head. “No. I’m just about done here, and Nami-ya is asleep. I’ll meet you in the mess hall in a bit.”

“You got it, Captain,” Penguin smiled before turning and heading back down the hall.

Law shut the door quietly, turning back towards the operating table. He’d just have to deal with the consequences of their conversation later, when she woke up again. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember, and he’d have nothing to deal with at all.

He began cleaning up his tools and equipment, pausing briefly as Nami shifted in her sleep. He chanced a glance at her; the arm that had risen to her tattoo now rested loosely atop her waist, her head fallen slightly to the side. Orange curls framed her face like a strange halo, and her dark lashes lay peacefully closed.

His mind cast back to the night before—to Luffy’s party out in the middle of the ocean, and his and Nami’s conversation on the aquarium bar balcony. One moment in particular stood out to him—when she’d taken his hat. He could easily have taken it back using his ability just as he’d done with his wallet; but for some reason, he let himself get drawn into her game, just as he’d let himself get drawn into conversation with her not ten minutes ago. And when he had her cornered against the far wall, blinking up at him from beneath those lashes, he’d felt… drawn to her; caught in the orbit of her gravity and unable to pull out.

He could chalk it up to the alcohol. She was a beautiful woman, after all, and had been looking up at him with those impish eyes, face cast in the silvery light of the half moon. He was only human.

She hummed quietly in her sleep, and the sound jarred Law from his reverie. He forced his attention back to the task at hand, picking up the remains on his operating tray before sliding it back into its proper place. He needed to stay focused. Now that he had been reunited with his crew, taking down Kaido was next and that would be no easy task, requiring every ounce of his attention and focus especially with Luffy in the picture—and she was beginning to take up too much room in his head.

As he headed for the door, he quickly checked her IV and tossed the remaining refuse into the medical waste bin on the wall. Reaching for the handle, though, he paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. She still lay quietly on the bed, her chest rising slowly but steadily with her breathing.

Yes, she was taking up far too much room in his head.

He pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall, shutting it softly behind him—and with it, all wayward thoughts of the navigator asleep within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the "healing acceleration" was somewhat inspired by my trips to PT. It's very common to do therapeutic ultrasound treatments for a variety of medical conditions, and I have it done frequently for my arthritis and chronic tendonitis. Usually you can't feel it it but when I have a particularly intense flare-up man does it feel good. So I figured, you know what, why can't Law do something like that? So in this story he does.
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
